


we can go in a loop (and we'll turn the volume up)

by Citrus Scented (Umazes)



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Professors, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:47:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25946827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Umazes/pseuds/Citrus%20Scented
Summary: Luffy turns the page and lays the notebook open, flat on the lectern, carefully setting down the pen on top of it. Zoro leans over to peer at the scribbled words.will you go out with me?___ yes              ___ yesfour AUs where Luffy chooses Zoro, and one where Zoro...
Relationships: Monkey D. Luffy/Roronoa Zoro
Comments: 10
Kudos: 116





	we can go in a loop (and we'll turn the volume up)

**Author's Note:**

> Getting rid of random stray thoughts while I chip away at my other fics haha. Hope you enjoy :) Title taken from the lyrics of Clair Rosinkranz's "Backyard Boy", which has been stuck in my head all day.

Zoro really needs money.

Which is how he finds himself in a line-up of bodyguard candidates, waiting for the final OK from the man he's supposed to protect—and _man_ is really a stretch, Monkey D. Luffy is still at the tail end of being a teenager, but Zoro is barely older anyway and doesn't think of himself as a boy so he supposes it wouldn't be fair to treat the other as a child.

Zoro has been getting by on white rice and beans and the occasional capture of wanted criminals. He works smart _and_ hard, which has somehow led to a rap sheet impressive enough that he would be hunted down too were it not for his contributions to public safety, but it doesn't really matter because he's confident in his own moral standing.

His criminal record _has_ , however, presented enough of an employment obstacle that none save this family have called him back after doing a background check; so, in short, Zoro really needs money. Enough to grovel to some snot nosed teen probably intent on vandalizing cars, for a few months of food money.

The home he ends up at is large, antiquated in a charming way, with a sprawling forest behind it. It looks like prime territory for sneaking out, and Zoro mentally starts marking all windows one might climb out of to take a late night stroll. He's busy thinking about vantage points when Luffy bursts through the doors.

His potential charge looks almost feral; Luffy tumbles into the room with scrapes on his arms and unkempt hair, a pathetic attempt at a tie knotted messily around his neck, and a pointy little grin. He looks like a toddler who had too much sugar. He looks ready to bite someone. He looks like maybe he's on drugs, except that his eyes are perfectly clear when he takes in the row of candidates standing before him.

"Which one of you is Zoro," he demands.

"Me," Zoro says, nonplussed. Certainly the... _wildness_ is a bit unusual, but plenty of people have singled Zoro out before due to his record. He braces himself for a slew of accusatory questions.

Luffy strides meaningfully towards him and then approaches so closely they're almost nose to nose. Zoro tries not to shy away from the proximity. He can see every pore on Luffy's forehead, and when he looks down he sees his own reflection looking mildly horrified in Luffy's black glass eyes—shit. He tries to school himself back into neutrality.

Luffy stares at him for a long moment before nodding seriously. The expression looks out of place on his face, somehow, like he’s not built for seriousness the way Zoro is. “Okay, good. Everything looks good. You’re hired.”

“What,” Zoro says.

“What,” says the guy next to him.

“WHAT,” says the butler who was passively standing by the door. “Your grandfather is going to–”

“Doesn’t matter what gramps says,” Luffy retorts. He shoves his hands in his pockets and says, very matter-of-factly and without a hint of pique, “that old geezer can’t stop me. Zoro’s got a cool backstory and he looks strong. He’s a perfect bodyguard.”

 _A cool backstory_ isn’t really how Zoro would have put it, but he’s so busy being caught between feeling oddly flattered and wanting to reject the job that he can’t muster a protest.

“But I have to tell him—”

“So tell him. What’s he gonna do? Fire Zoro? Then I’ll just hire him back.”

“You can’t just–”

“You’re so irritating,” Luffy says. He makes a little shooing motion with his hand. “Go, go. Tell him, I don’t really care. We’re going out now.”

He grabs Zoro’s hand. Zoro is just a touch too bewildered to actually stop him, and gets dragged out of the room before he remembers to yank his hand back and walk by himself. Luffy shrugs and continues out the front door.

“Are you sure about this,” Zoro says from behind him; he isn’t about to actually turn down the job, of course, but he doesn’t want to get hired only to get fired again the next day.

“It’s fine,” Luffy hums, “they always make a big fuss but nobody actually stops me. I like you. I don’t think you would betray me. You seem strong enough to protect me, although I don’t really need protecting. You catch bad guys, and that’s pretty cool too. Oh, but don’t try and catch me. I’m pretty strong too, you know?”

“I don’t see why I would need to,” Zoro says, “are you saying you’re a bad guy?”

“No, but I am about to commit some crimes.”

“ _Excuse me?_ ”

“We gotta build a name for ourselves,” Luffy says as if Zoro is the stupid one. “I’m gonna be infamous. Cool, right? Come on. We need some more people. Gramps will get really mad if he finds out what I’m doing, cuz he’s a cop, but if you keep your mouth shut he won’t find out for a while.”

“You’re not planning a murder or something, are you?”

“No.”

“Well,” Zoro says, “I guess my job is to protect you, not stop you from doing other things.”

Luffy smiles. “Then please take care of me.”

* * *

The new psychology professor is _weird_.

Zoro knows a lot of weird academics. There’s the professor whose entire linguistics lecture can be (and often is) derailed by his opinions on Game of Thrones, the doctor who updates his students on his houseplants twice a week, and even the professor who insists on a nap break halfway through her lecture ( _it refreshes the mind_ , she says, and although it may be true Zoro is doubtful of how professional nap breaks are).

None of them compare to this guy.

“Hi,” the new guy says, sticking his hand out for a handshake. Zoro takes it and shakes. And shakes. And shakes. He stops shaking and now they’re just holding hands.

“I’m Luffy,” the other man adds helpfully. “You’re going to be my friend.”

“Er,” Zoro says, “no, I don’t think so.”

“You are,” Luffy insists, “I sat in for one of your lectures on the criminal justice system and it was so cool! You made some great points. We could team up and change the world!”

Zoro thinks that’s awfully optimistic considering the two of them mostly just speak at half-asleep 20-something-year-olds for a few hours a day, but rather than saying so he just kind of grimaces.

“We’re friends now,” Luffy says.

“No, we’re really not.”

"C'mon," Luffy says, "we're gonna get coffee. You're free, right?"

"I actually have a lecture at—"

"4, I know! I sat in last week, like I said. You have plenty of time. Plus, that straight-laced TA with the glasses is looking for you. You wanna come with me or talk to her?"

Zoro considers it for half a second before he resigns himself to Luffy's presence. The other must see Zoro's decision on his face, because he smiles wide and sparkling. Zoro doesn't think he's ever seen such white teeth in his life.

"Thought so."

"Shut up."

Luffy doesn't let go of Zoro's hand until Zoro has to pay for their drinks (and why is he paying for both of them, anyway?). Zoro definitely doesn't think about how comfortable it was when their fingers were linked.

○○○

When he walks into his afternoon lecture 2 days later, Luffy is sitting in the seat closest to the wall and just behind the front entrance. It's a perfectly inconspicuous spot, and he looks so young and unprofessional in a graphic tee, jean shorts ( _jean shorts_ ) and flip flops that nobody gives him so much as a second glance. 

He has a notebook and pen at the ready and, when Zoro loads up his PowerPoint and swallows a mouthful of water in preparation, Luffy even pulls out an oversized pair of very round glasses that slide all the way down his nose as soon as he puts them on. He's disgustingly cute.

Zoro does his best to pretend the psych professor isn't there, and when he calls for a break after an hour, he does his best to pretend they don't know each other.

Luffy saunters up to the lectern with the notebook in hand and gives Zoro a blinding smile, looking every inch like an overeager first year determined to make a good impression. 

"I was taking very diligent notes," he says as if Zoro can't see the little stick figures peeking out between his fingers, "great lecture. Really fun stuff, I can't wait to hear about the Panopticon—" _bullshit, we've both spoken about and listened to this a thousand times "—_ but I just had one question!"

"Shoot," Zoro says as patiently as he can. 

"Haha, because this is criminology and shooting someone is a crime, right? You're so funny. I really like you, you know. Anyway, I wrote it down to make sure I got it exactly right, so just give me a second–"

Luffy turns the page and lays the notebook open, flat on the lectern, carefully setting down the pen on top of it. Zoro leans over to peer at the scribbled words. 

**will you go out with me?**

**___ yes ___ yes**

Zoro picks up the pen. He shuts the notebook. Luffy's phone number is written on the front. 

"Thought you would do that. Psych thing. Fun, right? Anyway, text me. Saturday sounds good, don't you think?"

"I'm not—"

"Oops, the break is almost over. Hope none of your students actually needed help. Probably not, right, you're a very good lecturer. I'll follow up tomorrow!" Luffy walks away, leaving Zoro with the notebook, and exits the lecture hall. 

Zoro saves Luffy's number. He tells himself that it's just to be prepared in case Luffy does anything else.

* * *

How does he do it, Zoro asks himself.

"Are you obsessing over Luffy again?" Nami questions. She sips distractedly at her boba tea, replying to some email or other—Zoro doesn't know and doesn't care, whether it's technically his business or not. He pays her to take care of that annoying crap.

"I'm not obsessing," he says, "it's just fuckin' weird."

“What is?” Usopp heaves a box onto the precariously balanced folding table nearby; it keeps sinking into the sand each time a new object is placed on it, and Usopp has to slide the items around in a high-speed game of tetris to balance it again before Luffy’s frozen lemonade falls right off. “His endless supply of energy? His figure? How anybody manages to get a decent shot of him when he never stops moving? Why girls like him so much? Why I’m going through a bunch of prop boxes filled with stuff he’ll never touch?”

“No, how pretty he is.”

“Genetics, I guess,” Nami says, “Have you seen his father?”

“No?”

“Oh, must be a privilege of the well-connected.” She smirks and Zoro knows instinctively he would have to pay for this information, so he doesn’t bother to ask further. “Anyway, he has great bone structure.”

It goes beyond that, though. Putting aside Luffy’s—frankly—horrific diet and sleep patterns, there’s a certain magic to the way his photos come out. Lifelike, energetic, _emotive_ in a way that Zoro has to admit he’s not.

They’re shooting beachwear today and athleisure wear tomorrow. Luffy and Zoro are both popular choices for these concepts. Zoro perhaps even more than Luffy, due to his physique. The sun has been out in full force, good news for their photos and terrible for their skin, but both of them are more prone to tanning than burning anyway and Luffy takes the long hours under the sun like a champ, posing here and there on the painfully hot sand despite a litany of whining.

He eyes Luffy’s melting drink scornfully as Nami hands him a chilled bottle of water. “Hold out for another few hours,” she says, “at most I can give you a green smoothie.”

“Whatever.”

“Okay, grumpy, no smoothie for you.”

Zoro sits down in the sand and stretches his legs out, enjoying the warmth of the day. The shoot location is beautiful and quiet enough that he doesn’t really mind the waiting; he could take a nap if he wanted, undisturbed on one of the chairs set up under their pavilion.

"Zoro!"

Or not. He heaves himself back upright, watching Luffy scurry towards him. He's wearing a pair of delicately patterned swim trunks, a sheer, open shirt, and a straw hat. He looks like he was made to be here, with the sun and the waves. 

"Zoro," Luffy says again, "they want to take some of us together."

"You didn't have to come over here," Zoro says, because it's actually quite a walk from the rocky edge of the beach where they were shooting to where the pavilions are set up. "They could've sent an assistant."

"I wanted to," Luffy replies. He sticks out his hands and Zoro takes them; despite Luffys smaller stature, he easily pulls Zoro to his feet. "I'm having lots of fun with this shoot, you know? I get to spend time with you, and they give me lots of ice cream!"

Nami looks up and makes eye contact with Zoro just long enough to smirk knowingly at him.

"Luffy, are you gonna drink this? It's melting." Usopp hands Luffy the frozen lemonade, which he slurps down before grimacing. 

"Brain freeze."

"Serves you right," Zoro says, "I don't know how you drink that stuff."

"Luffy's on a diet," Usopp says, easing himself into a chair beside Nami. "It's the eat-whatever-you-want diet. I haven't seen him put on more than 5 pounds in years. Super effective. Speaking of, I'm going to have Franky take me for the lunch run soon. You guys want anything?"

"Something with meat," Luffy says. 

Zoro looks at Nami. 

"I've already gotten a meal plan from Sanji for both of you," she says, showing her phone to Usopp. "He just put Luffy on the same diet since, and I quote, _that little jerk won't follow what I say anyway_. Spoilers, you're both getting salads."

"I want _meat_."

"Your nutritionist says salad."

" _Usopp._ "

Usopp sighs. "Okay, okay. I'll get you a salad… with meat. If you bloat or get acne it's not on me."

"It's totally on you," Nami says. 

"Shhh. If you scold me too much I'll just drop dead. I have a very fragile constitution, you know."

Usopp heads for the cars while Luffy pulls Zoro further down the beach. The photographer is a guy they've both worked with before and the atmosphere is comfortable. The lighting is good, too; their individual pictures were done early in the afternoon, with as much sunlight as possible, but the duos are for sunset. 

"Just sit on the rock together," the photographer says. "Touch each other a little bit, look like you're close and having fun. Luffy, I want you to emphasize that shirt."

Zoro sits on the cold, damp rock. He stretches his arms out behind him and reclines slightly, showing off his abs. Luffy drops down beside him and slings an arm over his shoulders. The photographer begins to shoot.

Luffy fiddles briefly with his shirt while Zoro turns to watch, directing his gaze at Luffy's hands, when suddenly Luffy's face turns to look back at him. 

They're close, like this; almost nose to nose. Zoro's heart kicks into high gear. 

"You're too close," he says.

"Photographer said to get close?"

"Not this close," Zoro says. 

"No? I like it though." Luffy smiles and leans even closer, pressing his head against Zoro's.

Zoro feels heat crawl up his neck and pulls back a little. He can't be embarrassed and splotchy; he forces the emotion away and pretends everything is fine and that he isn't thinking about kissing his coworker. 

"Hey," Luffy whispers, "I really wanna try something. Can I?"

"I guess?"

He doesn't register what's happening until Luffy's lips are already pressed warmly against his, and then suddenly Zoro can't register anything else; whatever the photographer might be saying is drowned out by the sound of his heartbeat in his ears. His eyes close automatically; he feels Luffy's arm tighten around him, drawing him closer.

Luffy pulls back and Zoro opens his eyes to see the other man grinning at him and looking _very_ pleased.

The camera shutter snaps.

"That's, uh—" the photographer checks his camera roll while Zoro feels himself spontaneously combusting. He hunches over and covers his face with his hands. "Well, we got it. Any method, right? That's a wrap! Good work guys."

Zoro follows Luffy back to their managers, completely on autopilot. He lets Nami usher him into a car and back to the hotel. He falls into an expensive bed and stares at the ceiling blankly.

His phone pings. It's a text from Luffy. Short enough to display on his lockscreen. Zoro reads it and then throws an arm over his face, knowing he's absolutely fucked. 

「 _I didn't do it for the shoot._ 」

* * *

“What the _fuck_ is _this_?”

It's a matter of principle, really.

Zoro argues until he's blue in the face that he doesn't want an engagement, that he isn’t old enough to need a spouse and he isn’t going to inherit the throne anyway, so does it really matter? He was planning to join the royal order and serve in peace and quiet, honing his skills by himself and living a simple but productive life.

“Ha,” Sanji says.

“Shut up, I wasn’t asking you.”

Despite his passionate arguments, Zoro is summarily betrothed to one Monkey D. Luffy—heir to the golden throne, third sun of the neighbouring empire (after his grandfather, the emperor Garp, and his older brother Ace. He ought to be fourth, by all rights, but his father fled the empire following Luffy’s birth), His Imperial Highness of a Thousand Sunrises, or whatever his subjects have been calling him lately. For some reason they’re shockingly loyal to their sovereigns. Zoro’s dreams of a simple life vanish in the face of a political marriage, which he resigns himself to with grim determination and self-hypnosis that he’s still doing something for his country.

“What’d he send you? Let me see,” Sanji says, leaning over. He snatches the letter out of Zoro’s hands; it’s a two-page affair detailing, on the first page, the terms and arrangements made for their engagement period and subsequent wedding, and on the second page, Luffy’s personal correspondence to Zoro.

“Give that back, you sh—”

“Watch it, mosshead,” Sanji says, “learn to speak like the royalty you are. You’ll be an imperial consort soon.” His lips tremble with poorly concealed mirth.

“I swear to God, if you weren’t personally appointed as my attendant by the king I would have executed you myself by now.”

“Sucks to be you,” Sanji says. “Wow, only three months for your engagement? Is Garp gonna kick the bucket or something?”

“Even if he did, there’s no need for Luffy to be married to inherit the throne,” says Robin. She looks up from where she’s already drafting a reply in Zoro’s name, having read the letter in advance. “They must be eager to receive you in particular, for some reason.”

Zoro gives her a skeptical look. Robin smiles back at him, unbothered, and returns to scratching neat words onto high quality paper.

“You even know anything about this guy?” Sanji asks.

“No,” Zoro replies. He pulls out the chair across from Robin’s and flops down in it, leaving Sanji to perch at the foot of his bed while he continues to read.

“Dude, did you read the second page at all?”

“No, I don’t really care what he has to say about me.”

Sanji bursts out laughing. Zoro squints at him suspiciously. He turns to look at Robin, who is also quivering with suppressed amusement, and then swings back around. “Tell me,” he demands.

“I-it says,” Sanji chokes out, “ _Hey, Zoro! You’re really pretty. I hear you’re good with your sword too._ ”

Sanji pauses to take several stuttering breaths in a fruitless attempt to compose himself while Zoro processes what he just said, feeling his entire body start to flush with humiliation.

“W-wait. There’s more.” Sanji clears his throat once, twice, before continuing, “ _I’m excited_ —he spelled excited wrong twice, _fuck_ , he wrote this himself. His handwriting is disgusting. This is amazing. Sorry. _I’m excited to see you. Hurry and come here soon or I’ll come and get you myself._ _Love, Luffy._ He signed it with a heart. A _heart_.”

“He _is_ seventeen, right?” Zoro asks. He feels lightheaded. “That sounds like it was written by a toddler. I’m not being engaged to a toddler, am I?”

“I’ve seen him myself,” Robin says, “he’s not a toddler.”

“Oh, good.” The only good part, Zoro thinks to himself. “Well, that’s enough for today. Write anything as a reply. I need a nap after hearing that.”

“Are you sure you have time to nap?” Sanji gasps. He still can’t quite stop laughing. “Heee—haha, jesus—he might come and get you himself. Maybe we should just leave tomorrow.”

“Get out of here before I have you forcibly removed.”

○○○

Usopp, Luffy’s aide, greets them when they arrive. Zoro brings only Sanji with him for now; if they make it to the wedding, he will be able to invite a few more from his own household, but it would be seen as impolite to bring too many strangers into a fully staffed castle.

“So,” Zoro says, “what now?”

“Er, well,” Usopp twists his hands nervously, “normally I would just show you to your rooms and we could handle the rest later, but Luffy _really_ wanted to meet you, so—”

“ _Zoro!_ ” A red blur slides down the grand staircase railing and directly into Zoro’s chest. He takes the hit with the stability borne of countless combat exercises, staggering backwards but maintaining enough balance to avoid falling, until his foot slides back and collides with Sanji’s toes; he catches the blonde’s smirk in his peripheral vision as they go down.

Zoro cracks his head against the marble floor with an ugly sound that leaves him dizzy and praying that his first impression won’t be bleeding all over his fiancé’s foyer. Not that it would be his fault, but it’s not a very dignified entrance.

“LUFFY,” Usopp shrieks.

“Oh no!!” says the red blur above him. Zoro blinks hard, three or four times, before his vision begins to clear and he can make out the youth hovering over him. Luffy is a great deal cuter than he was lead to believe, but that could just be the head injury talking.

“Thanks,” Luffy says, beaming. “Sorry for knocking you over! Are you alright?”

“No,” Zoro says, “I just said all of that out loud. I think I should go back home.”

“Ack, you can’t! I was too excited, it’s my fault! Stay, please? _Please_.” Luffy scrambles to his feet and pulls Zoro up; thankfully, he isn’t bleeding, although he can feel a lump starting to swell at the back of his head. “Usopp, go get Chopper! Chopper is our royal physician, he’ll make sure you’re okay. I promise I won’t knock you over again.”

“Okay,” Zoro says as Usopp hurries away, because he doesn’t really have much choice.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Luffy says, “I’m Luffy! You don’t have to call me by any titles. I’ll just call you by your name too, okay? If we’re gonna be married then I think we should start by being friendly.”

“I know who you are,” Zoro says, “and titles are important. I should call you—”

“— _Luffy_.”

“...Luffy,” Zoro concedes, too disoriented to argue any further. Luffy nods, looking pleased.

“I asked for a shorter engagement because I’m sure that we’ll be great together,” Luffy says, “and the longer the engagement is, the more boring and official events we have to sit through. After the wedding they’ll get off our backs for a while. Don’t you find this stuff annoying?”

“Not really,” Zoro says, “it’s our duty as royalty.”

Luffy makes a face. “Zoro is too responsible. It’s okay, I’ll show you how to have fun. Ace doesn’t really care for formalities either, so just call him by his name when you see him. We can just hang out and get to know each other for the next few months!”

“The letter you sent previously detailed a list of mandatory events during the engagement period,” Sanji interjects softly. His mouth twitches, no doubt remembering Luffy’s childishly handwritten letter, and Zoro has the sudden urge to kick him. “It was rather lengthy.”

“We just have to show our faces at those,” Luffy says. “They have some good food. After that we can escape.”

“You can’t just _escape_ events held in your honour,” Zoro says.

“Sure you can. I’ll show you how! It’s easy.”

“Do you not care _at all_ for your responsibilities?”

“Zoro,” Luffy says with a grin, “there’s a difference between responsibilities and formalities. Don’t worry; I know how to be a good king. I just don’t care about these stupid parties. Your letter said that it’s important to you that I’ll be a good ruler, right?”

Zoro doesn’t remember. Robin wrote the entire letter for him. “Sure,” he says.

“What’s important to Zoro is important to me,” Luffy says, “so don’t worry. I’ll take care of all the important things.”

“...Okay.”

“Do you like me?”

“I have to be honest,” Zoro says, “I am not following this conversation at all. I think you gave me a concussion so for now I’ll go with ‘not really’.”

“I really am sorry about that! I guess I’ll just have to make you like me, then. I have a feeling you will soon, because I’ll try my hardest. I like you, you know.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough,” Luffy says, and something in his eyes makes Zoro believe him.

* * *

Zoro decides to take a road trip when he turns twenty-three, fresh out of college and with no obligations. He’s promised a contract position with a garage at the end of the summer and until then, he decides to live it up and tour the country. He buys an old van, takes out the back seats and outfits it with a bed to sleep in, and then he’s off with a single suitcase and a vaguely mapped out route across the country.

He drives four hours west before taking his first rest stop in a small town called Newport, unremarkable in every way except for the ocean view; he figures it’s worth seeing once before he goes far enough to see a wholly different ocean for the first time, so he parks and gets out to stand by a rusted railing, smelling cigarette smoke and sea salt. It’s a kind of dingy place, mostly deserted, but the solitude suits Zoro just fine.

“Hey,” says a voice behind him, “where are you headed?”

Zoro turns. His eyes meet onyx, big round pools that look him straight in the eye and don’t wander at all. Zoro is used to people looking away, either intimidated or distracted by his physique, and something about the directness of the other man’s gaze makes him want to break the staring contest, but Zoro has never been one to back down first so instead he just holds the uncomfortable gaze with a growing discomfort.

“Who the fuck are you,” he asks.

“I’m Luffy. I’m looking for a ride—it doesn’t really matter where, just has to be long. I wanna travel but I have no money, you see.” The young man shoves his hands in his pockets and offers Zoro a friendly smile.

“So you’re just asking strangers for rides,” Zoro says slowly.

“Nope. I’m asking _you_.”

“Okay, well, no?”

“You’re alone, right? Road trips are more fun with company. C’mon, it’ll be worth it.”

“How do you know I’m on a long trip? I could be headed just an hour away.”

“You could,” Luffy says with a little frown, “but I looked inside your van and saw your bed setup. Nobody does that for a short trip.”

“Don’t look into other peoples’ cars.”

“Sorry.” He doesn’t look the least bit sorry. “Anyway, take me with you!”

“I don’t even know you,” Zoro says.

“You do now!”

Zoro sighs. Luffy continues to smile at him serenely. 

“Are you trying to get away from something?”

“If I say yes, will you take me with you?”

“No.”

“Then no?”

Zoro groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “Why me?”

Luffy leans on the railing beside Zoro. It’s kind of grimy, but Luffy doesn’t seem to register it. “You ever just get this feeling that something really important is about to happen? Like you’re making a crucial decision in your life and there’s a right answer? I kind of got the feeling that you’re the right answer here. Is that weird?”

“Are you hitting on me?”

“Do you want me to?” Luffy laughs. “Maybe. If you want. You’re good looking. That wasn’t what I meant, though.”

“You’re fucking weird,” Zoro says, chagrined, but he kind of gets it. There’s something about Luffy, too; just the two of them in this parking lot, vibing, and it doesn’t feel as much like they’re strangers as it should. “If you piss me off, I’m leaving you on the side of the road.”

“Okay,” Luffy says. He sticks his fingers in Zoro’s pocket and fishes around for his keys while Zoro sputters a protest. “Thanks, Zoro!”

It’s only once Luffy is settled in Zoro’s passenger seat that Zoro realizes he didn’t tell the other man his name.

○○○

Luffy is kind of a disaster, but Zoro finds himself more endeared than anything by the way the other man switches the radio station every twenty minutes and bobs his head enthusiastically to pop songs, singing the lyrics all wrong with his whole chest; the way he does a more than respectable air guitar when Zoro requests classic rock; the way he pops open bags of Cheetos and feeds them carefully to Zoro, one by one, as he’s driving. He finds that he likes the way Luffy props his knees up against the dash while Zoro is filling gas and then crosses his legs and tucks his feet in when they start driving; the way he sticks his head out the window to look at passing novelty statues ( _“Zoro, look! It’s a giant apple wearing sunglasses! Zoro do you think they sell keychains of the apple wearing sunglasses? Can we stop and look for one?”_ ); the way he always, always stays up to keep Zoro awake without a single complaint, no matter how late into the night Zoro drives.

He shares his bed with Luffy in the back of the van because neither of them are that fussed about spending money on a motel room and, honestly, Zoro doesn’t really have the money to spare; Luffy doesn’t say a single word about nights spent curled together on the mattress that Zoro is very thankful he opted to bring, doesn’t complain about washing himself in gas station sinks; and if it’s cold at night he just snuggles closer, until they’re pressed flush against each other.

Neither of them can follow a map to save their lives, and Zoro grows accustomed to Luffy holding his phone close to Zoro’s ear while Nami gives them increasingly exasperated instructions; and then to the robotic voice of Google attempting to correct their course when they inevitably deviate from Nami’s instructions; and then to Luffy’s bright and cheerful laughter when they give up on directions altogether and just drive, drive, drive down endless highways, past endless gas stations and expanses of trees.

They reach the other end of the country after a fortnight. It’s not as much of a delay as Zoro expected, and he still has a couple of months before he has to go home for work, so they decide to take a few days’ break and get a room for once. Zoro splurges on one with a view of the ocean, because Luffy asks him to with such pleading eyes that he can’t really refuse; not that he’s particularly refused Luffy anything anyway.

Somehow this road trip feels like it’s turned into Zoro following Luffy rather than the other way around, but he can’t find it in himself to be upset about it.

Luffy drags him down to the beach, where they explore the shoreline and Luffy digs for seashells until it grows dark and the wind becomes biting, and then they return to their motel room trailing sand and crusted salt that was only half-heartedly brushed from their feet. Zoro only asked for one bed, because he’s used to sleeping beside Luffy now, and he watches the latter flop onto the mattress with a twinge of something that might be love.

It’s too soon to be love. But it could be. Whatever it is makes his chest feel warm.

“Are we heading back after this?” Luffy asks, staring at the ceiling. 

Zoro sits on the bed beside him. “I guess so,” he says, “I didn’t plan to go anywhere else. Did you?”

“I just wanted to come with you.” 

“Then we can head back tomorrow. Where should I drop you off? Where we met? Or were you hitchhiking before that?”

Luffy turns his head and looks at Zoro. “Where do you want to take me?”

The question feels oddly reminiscent of their first meeting. Zoro raises his eyebrows at Luffy, who grins.

“What if I want to go north now?”

“Then we’ll go north. I still have a while before I have to go home.”

“And what about when you have to go back? What if I want to go with you?”

“You could,” Zoro’s mouth says before his brain can stop him, “come back with me.”

“You always do what I want,” Luffy says, “it feels weird not to have to convince you.”

“Why?”

Luffy shrugs. “Just does. You’ll be mad if I sleep with sand on my feet, right? Are you gonna come wash yours off too?”

They climb back into the van the next day, refreshed and ready to make the trip back home, and Zoro is sitting quietly at the wheel and thinking about asking Luffy to come back with him for real when something clicks; the part of him that agreed to take this stranger across the country with him, that shared a bed with said stranger even though Zoro can barely sleep in a friend’s guest room, that fell in love in two weeks.

Luffy climbs into the passenger seat, holding a bag of gummy worms. “Want one?” he asks, shoving the bag at Zoro.

“This is weird to say after all this time,” Zoro says, ignoring the bag, “and it sounds like a fake ass line, but have we met before?”

“Yup,” Luffy says, retracting his arm and biting at one of the candies, his fingers crusted in sugar and sour crystals.

“Not—Not recently,” Zoro says. He turns away from Luffy, his heart pounding. “I sound fucking crazy. But like, in a different life or something? It’s kind of—it’s just a feeling I got. Forget it. That sounds insane. I sound insane.”

“Yup,” Luffy says. “I thought you weren’t going to remember!”

“Wait, what?”

“I tried to ask you a couple of times before,” Luffy says, and something in his voice is uncharacteristically serious enough that Zoro turns back around and meets his gaze; Luffy’s eyes are warm and bright, filled with affection as he looks at Zoro, “but you never remembered so I stopped asking. It just made things weird. So I decided to just keep making you like me. It’s not that hard, since I like you and you usually like me too. But I’m glad you remember now, at least some of it.”

“How long has this been going on,” Zoro asks, and Luffy shrugs.

“Does it matter?”

“Guess not,” Zoro says. “So, uh.”

“If you remembered, can I kiss you now? I don’t have to wait if you remember, right?” Luffy asks.

“I don’t think you waited much before this anyway,” Zoro says, and Luffy laughs as he clambers over the center console, contorting himself to fit in Zoro’s lap as if his body is made of rubber. He keeps laughing, even as Zoro kisses him, even as his back accidentally presses the horn on the steering wheel and makes both of them jump, until Zoro gives him more reason to gasp and sigh than to laugh.

“If you made me like you that many times,” Zoro says, “I guess I should return the favour.”

“Silly Zoro,” Luffy says, pressing their foreheads together, “obviously, you already have.”

**Author's Note:**

> Which one did you like best? One Piece already has such an interesting setting that I like to think about more mundane AUs, it's kind of a contrast.


End file.
